


I’m Gay For My Living Castleship (Posessed By My Dead King)

by Bonymaloney (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coran is a True Buckaroo, Corangst, Lost Love, M/M, Pining, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Bonymaloney
Summary: “It’s really just a big embodiment of advanced supernatural technology that cannot be explained by science alone.” - Coran





	I’m Gay For My Living Castleship (Posessed By My Dead King)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KingsAndThieves (TehLotteh)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehLotteh/gifts).



Allura was gone a long time. When she finally returned from the holodeck, Coran comforted her. He knew all too well the strength of emotion she must be feeling at seeing the hologram of her father. Knew because he felt it too. 

“Father asked me to send you to him,” she said when she could speak again. He nodded, suddenly immensely aware of the lump in his throat.

Part of him was still very angry with Alfor. Coran had been willing to give his life for him, and Alfor had held that gift in the palm of his hand and then rejected it, had asked something of him instead that had been so much harder. When he’d been in the hologram’s presence before, he’d barely been able to even look at him. 

But now it was just him and Alfor, alone, standing in a warm meadow full of flowers. No matter how much he tried to remind himself that it was all a trick of the light, as soon as his eyes met Alfor’s he was weak at the knees, heart pounding just like it had when he was a young man at boot camp and Alfor was the new king. 

The version of Alfor that stood before him was older and thinner, with lines around his eyes; but the look he gave Coran was so familiar, so tender and warm and knowing that Coran wanted to fall at his feet. 

“Gorgeous man,” Alfor said in his deep soft voice. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

He’d forgotten quite how delicious praise from Alfor made him feel, as his belly flipped and his spine tingled

Coran would have always done his duty, of course. He was a great believer in tradition, and Wimbleton-Smythes had served the Royal family of Altea for generations, as soldiers and builders and household stewards. But there was a connection on another level with Alfor, something that made him want to give himself over completely, to be used and useful, and be cherished in return.

Coran felt so full of conflicting emotions he could explode, just explode and die right there. His face felt hot, and his hands were waving in a way he was sure was very undignified, and he tried to talk but nothing came out except a cry of frustration. 

“Gaaah! You can’t- I can’t- “

Ever decisive, Alfor stepped forward and kissed him.

His fingertips framed Coran’s face, lightly buzzing against his skin. His lips brushed against Coran’s, cool and hot at the same time, like licking a battery. It felt good, but there was no warmth of Alfor, no scent or taste of him, and Coran pushed him away, his hands passing through the former King’s chest. 

“I can’t!” he managed to exclaim again, and then he ran. 

He took himself off to a quiet spot and had a bit of a cry, then went to the cryopods and cleaned them until he would have earned himself another set of stripes, if anyone had been left around who cared about such things. By the time he came to fix the Paladins’ supper and quiz them on celestial navigation, he looked entirely presentable again. 

That night, Coran dreamed. 

He started off back in the hangar of the Castle, back when Alfor had first shown him the Lions, the great creatures looming over him. Alfor was radiant with his genius and his daring, and he seemed to Coran to be almost as tall as his beautiful, terrible creations. Alfor grinned at him, and he felt his heart swell with pride in his King. He knelt before Alfor and kissed his hand. 

In reality the hangar had been packed whenever Alfor visited the Lions, but in Coran’s dream the two of them were there alone, and then suddenly Alfor somehow _was_ his lion, and size and scale didn’t seem to matter any more as he mounted Coran, driving into him from behind. His power overwhelmed Coran entirely, and he arched back against Alfor, tried to take as much of him inside him as he could. The hangar floor was shaking, and he could smell blood and sweat and static...

He awoke with a start, breathless and sticky and tangled in his sheets. The light in his room seemed somehow both too bright and too dim, and the air was hot and humid. The shaking from his dream was still there in the background, almost like a rumbling sound that he could feel rather than hear. 

Coran shook his head. The climate control had to be on the blink. He added it to his mental list of jobs for the morning. 

He pushed his covers and most of his pillows to the ground and peeled off his singlet and shorts, then lay back on the bed, uncomfortably aware of the mess drying onto his belly and thigh. He toyed idly with the idea of getting up and showering, but his heart was still pounding, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. 

Eyelids heavy, he stared vacantly up at the wall. The cross stitch of the Castleship, the one he’d hung up as a joke back when the idea he might spend his life living on it seemed as remote as the far moon. Of course, when you were actually in the Castleship, even the far moon itself was only a few ticks away. 

The portrait of Alfor beside it was regal and beautiful as always. He seemed to be looking right at Coran, sprawling naked and spent as he was, and the beginnings of a realisation began to cross Coran’s mind, but he was so _tired_. The lights in his quarters flickered softly, and he clenched his fists and moaned in response, but then sleep took him and he drifted away under the portrait’s watchful gaze.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is based on a parody Voltron/Chuck Tingle book cover by tumblr user Kingsandthieves. There are more of them and they are hilarious, so go check them out.


End file.
